Dysfunctional
by Bekquai
Summary: *Chapter 7 Posted* ~Complete~ There are reasons Merton turned out the way he did. Rated for graphic violence and cursing.
1. Repression

Author's Note: Oh, come on. Like you guys didn't see a fic like this coming. Merton is ~way~ too messed up for him to have had a "normal" family when he was growing up. I think this explains a lot.  
  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Big Wolf on Campus or any of the associated characters and entities. Don't sue me because this is just for fun and I'm not making any money from this. Really, who'd be dumb enough to PAY for it?  
  
  
  
  
Dysfunctional  
  
  
  
  
  
"Family Values Week?" Merton asked in a scornful tone, eyeing the banner a couple of Home Ec. students were hanging up across the hall with suspicion. "Is this the attempt at instilling our unsuspecting students with a conformist set of conservative prejudices that I think it is?  
  
Tommy closed his locker and shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that I gotta pretend to be Lori's husband for next week."  
  
"I didn't know Lori took Home Ec," Merton said, frowning slightly in confusion. Somehow he just couldn't reconcile the idea of Lori learning the difference between a casserole and a hotdish with what he knew of the tough, ungirly girl.  
  
"Well, when she transferred there weren't a whole lot of classes open. It was Home Ec. or Advanced Physics," Tommy explained. "I can't fault her logic there. Anyway, she needed a partner and I, being her boyfriend and all, had no choice."  
  
Merton, who actually like Advanced Physics, just frowned harder and grew more animated in his objections."That doesn't make it better. As a Chylde of Darkness, I protest!" He was nearly shouting.  
  
"Calm down, buddy," Tommy admonished him when the Home Ec. girls turned to stare. "Go home, relax, and I'll come over after football practice."  
  
"Yeah, good idea," Merton agreed. "Then we can find out who's behind this obvious evil brainwashing attempt."  
  
"Whatever," Tommy replied skeptically. "See ya!"  
  
As Merton walked out to his hearse, he sighed. Family values, huh? He had precious little of those.  
  
Not that he really cared anymore; he'd long ago given up hope that his family would one day be normal and happy. Not that they weren't happy, exactly. After all, he did fine on his own in his basement Lair, Becky did fine with her room filled with N*Sync posters, and his mom and dad were fine at the office they both worked at. Better than fine, really, considering how much money they always gave out to him and Becky. If his parents had been poorer, maybe they would have felt it more necessary to be involved in their children's lives.  
  
On the rare occasions that he went over to Tommy's house, sometimes Merton had to bite back surges of jealousy. Tommy's parents, though incredibly busy, always made sure that Tommy knew they cared about him. Dean was always willing to lend a sympathetic ear to his brother's troubles - provided, of course, there wasn't something better on T.V. Sometimes it almost made him sick that such a perfect family still existed in this day and age. It was like the Brady Bunch only minus four annoyingly sweet kids.  
  
The most Merton ever saw of his parents were brief moments at breakfast before they rushed off to work. The trouble with Becky was that when she wasn't denying he existed, insulting him, or avoiding him, sometimes there would be a hint of the friendship they'd shared when they were scamps. Before she'd gone to kindergarten and discovered being the little sister of an outcast was bad for her social life, she'd actually looked up to him.  
  
*But maybe that was only because I protected her from -* Merton began to think, then stopped himself. He didn't like to think of that. Better to remember the good times, when he, Vince, and Becky would play hide-and-seek or pretend. He and Vince had been really good at playing pretend. Maybe that was because Vince had been an extension of himself, back then, just a projection of his own subconscious. Of course, having his old imaginary friend return ten years later after having gone insane from being locked in a box for that long and then try to do the same to ~him~ had somewhat dulled the luster of his childhood memories. But even those were better than those other, more sinister memories.  
  
Merton sighed again and started the engine. He shook his head to banish his thoughts, then began the short drive home.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Tommy ran to Merton's house in his unwolfed form, but he still was faster than any human had a right to be. He was just anxious about what Merton was plotting away at. He recalled what the Goth had pulled at the last school event week he'd objected to, School Spirit Week. It'd taken Tommy an hour to pry him out of the basketball hoop, and then there was the matter of Tommy's favorite shirt, which Merton got all covered in paint...  
  
Overall, Tommy decided it was better to diffuse this time bomb before it was properly assembled.  
  
When he got to Merton's house, he paused outside the door to catch his breath. As he panted, he noticed a small square of folded paper taped to the door to the Lair with only the word "Merton" written on the front. Puzzled, he plucked it down and turned it over in his hands. It was tempting to just open it and read it, but it was meant for Merton. With respect for his friend's privacy, he didn't open it. Besides, knowing the kinds of things Merton was into, Tommy wasn't sure he ~wanted~ to know what was in this note.  
  
With that in mind, he walked into the Lair, prepared for the worst. Instead of finding Merton pouring over blue-prints of the school, searching for the perfect line of attack - as he half-expected - the Goth was sitting Indian style on his bed, staring off into space as eerie, haunting music played.  
  
"Don't you have someone you'd die for?" the female singer asked. "Don't you have someone to die for?"  
  
"Merton, what the hell are you listening to?" Tommy asked, weirded out. He never pretended to understand the Goth's predilection for Marilyn Manson and Sisters of Mercy, but this was a change from those hard, gothic tunes. It was more melodic and creepy.  
  
Merton started, as if he hadn't noticed Tommy until just then. "Oh, hi Tommy," he said, sounding spacey, as if his mind was somewhere else. "I'm listening to Belly; they're an older band but they're pretty cool." Then he went back to staring at the air in front of his face.  
  
"Hello? Earth to Merton. Come in, Merton," Tommy said, crossing to the bed and waving his hand in front of the other boy's face. To his surprise, Merton flinched away, raising an arm as if he was afraid Tommy would hit him. "Hey, what's up with you?"  
  
Merton seemed to come to himself then, and he straightened up, looking embarrassed. "Uh, nothing. Just jumpy tonight, I guess. How was football practice?"  
  
The jock instantly became suspicious. Merton usually could care less about football ~games,~ so why should he care how the practices went? Was he just trying to be polite, or was he trying to hide something? Knowing Merton, Tommy guessed the latter. Unfortunately, Tommy had no idea what his friend would be hiding, so he chose to just ignore it for the moment.  
  
"fine, I guess. I got in some really good tackles, and Coach says we're ready to take on Muelenburg next Wednesday," Tommy replied, as if it were normal for Merton to ask sports questions.   
  
"Oh, that's good. Go Badgers and all that," Merton said absently. That was the last straw.  
  
"Okay, spill it. What are you thinking, Merton? You're not planning on trying to ruin Family Values Week, are you? Because that would be incredibly stupid, not to mention insensitive, because Lori's grade is hanging in the balance," Tommy said, frowning down at Merton, who's blank look turned confused.  
  
"Huh? Ruin it?" Merton blinked.  
  
"Yeah, like you did with School Spirit Week. I don't want to have to drag your skinny ass out of the basketball hoop again," Tommy said, not buying the innocent act.  
  
Merton winced at the memory and sighed. "I can assure you that ruining Family Values Week is the farthest thing from my mind. Actually... I was thinking... Maybe... maybe Lori could have two partners for the project?"  
  
The last was said so lowly, Tommy had to lean in to hear it. His eyes bugged. "Wha-?" he asked as intelligently as he could.  
  
Merton blushed and looked anywhere in the room but at Tommy. "It's just... well, you guys have normal families and look how you turned out. Maybe there's something to these so-called values."  
  
"But - but -"  
  
"And it's not like I plan on stealing Lori away from you or anything," Merton said, and gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. "Like I could."  
  
"But - I thought you objected as 'a Chylde of Darkness,'" Tommy finally got out.  
  
Merton crossed his arms over his chest and seemed to shrink into himself a little, still refusing to look up at Tommy. "I was just thinking... maybe if I'd had a family like yours or Lori's, I wouldn't ~be~ a Chylde of Darkness anymore than you are or she is..."  
  
"Oh. Um." Somehow, Tommy couldn't think of how to respond to this unexpected turn of events. He felt bad for just standing around   
  
"It's okay, Tommy," Merton said after a short pause, sounding nervous and forcedly cheerful. "I didn't really think it'd work out anyway. I'm just kinda... curious, I guess."  
  
"No, it's kind of an interesting idea," Tommy said, surprising himself. "I'll talk to Lori about it."  
  
"You will?" Merton sounded skeptical and hopeful at once, startled into looking up. Tommy scanned his face, and couldn't decipher most of what he saw in Merton's eyes.  
  
"Yeah, sure. I'll talk to her about it tonight at the Factory. You coming with?"  
  
Merton shook his head. "Nah, I'm in too much of a good mope. I'll sit this one out. Besides, I bet it gets weird trying to make out with Lori when you always have a third wheel along. You guys should go have some time to yourselves."  
  
An utterly selfless statement from Merton? Wasn't that a sign of the apocalypse? Tommy fiddled with the paper in his hand nervously, then belatedly remembered that it was for Merton.  
  
"Oh, before I go," he said, offering the paper to Merton, who took it automatically. "I found this taped to your door."  
  
Merton turned the paper in his hands, puzzled. "It wasn't there when I came home. I wonder why whoever left it didn't just knock?"  
  
Tommy shrugged. "Read it and see who it's from."  
  
Merton opened the sheet of paper, eyes darting as he scanned it. Then gasped. Then his already pale face became even paler and a strange, queasy look pasted itself to his features. Tommy cocked his head quizzically. Merton crumpled the paper suddenly, and tossed it with accuracy into the wastebasket next to his desk. He drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them.  
  
"What's wrong? What's it say?" Tommy asked when Merton didn't immediately say something.  
  
"I-it's some kind of sick joke, is all. The neighbor kids always do stuff like that to me," he muttered.  
  
"This is the first I've heard of it," Tommy said suspiciously. Merton stared down at the tops of his knees. "You want me to go over there and set them straight?"  
  
"No, it's not worth it. They're just a bunch of dumb kids," Merton said with a shrug. "It doesn't matter all that much, so I never said anything about it. Don't bother yourself with it. Just go have fun with Lori, all right?"  
  
Tommy frowned. He knew when someone was trying to get rid of him. But this new depressed Merton was something he didn't know how to deal with right now, and a quick glance at the clock on the wall proved that he was almost late at getting to his date with Lori. He sighed huffily.  
  
"Fine. I'm going, but we're still on for movies tomorrow night, right? Lori wants to watch 'The One' on your awesome surround sound," Tommy said, already headed for the door.  
  
Merton nodded. "Yeah, sure. Have fun."  
  
Tommy left, feeling just as anxious as when he arrived, but for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
As soon as the door shut behind Tommy, Merton leapt up with more agility than he'd thought he possessed. From the adrenalin rushing through his body, perhaps it was no surprise. He'd always heard that people could do amazing things on adrenalin, like lift cars to save their children. But he wasn't thinking about that now; he was concentrating on getting the paper out of the garbage. He tried to smooth it out as much as he could, then read it again. The crabbed handwriting hadn't changed, hadn't proved to be a hallucination.  
  
"Merton," the note began, "I'm back. Tell anyone and you'll regret it. I have some unfinished business with you. Don't make it worse than it has to be."  
  
The last line of the note made Merton choke on the hysterical giggle he was repressing. It was so calculatedly mocking, such a low blow that it tickled Merton's sense of the melodramatic.  
  
"Love," it read, "Your Father."  
  
"Shit," his whispered, heart in his throat for fear. He tried not to whimper; it was unmanly and pathetic, especially at his age. He would have laughed at himself except for the fact he was too petrified at the moment. God, he really was a sad, sad excuse for a rebellious teenager. One note from his father and he was reduced to a -  
  
  
// " - sniveling, whining, ugly son of a bitch!" //  
  
  
He groaned and flopped back on his bed, pressing his fists to his eyes in an attempt to stop the memories that threatened to surface. He tried to ~never~ remember them, but there were times - awkward times - that they'd surface. Like when T'n'T bore down on him, he'd recall exactly what it felt like, the helplessness, the hopelessness. And then the two huge boys would scent his fear and attack. When supernatural beasties threatened violence, another reflex from his childhood kicked in: he fled, or hid. He cowered. He hated that. He hated being so weak. Hell, even when Lori or Tommy threatened with the smallest amount of physical violence, he'd fold like origami. After all, he couldn't run from his friends.  
  
  
// "Stay still and take it like a man!" //  
  
  
His breath hitched in his throat and he rolled onto his side, telling himself to calm down. If this kept up, he'd have a full-blown panic attack.  
  
The real thing he should be worrying about was ~why~ had his father come back? Why threaten him now, after all this time? He hadn't even ~seen~ him since that night over ten years ago. Surely his father still couldn't be grinding an axe over the imagined childish transgressions Merton had perpetrated.  
  
  
// Becky wailed and wailed at the top of her lungs. Merton concentrated on her and tried not to feel - //  
  
  
Merton felt something on his cheek and scrubbed at it, opening his eyes to find the blurry. Shit.  
  
  
// "Don't you dare start crying, you wuss, or I'll ~really~ give you something to cry about!" //  
  
  
It was going to be a long night.  
  
  
  
  
TBC...  
  
  
So I guess my writer's block only applied to my other BWOC series. ^^; Oh well, this is a more fun kind of Merton-torture anyway. No slash in sight, however. Ah, well. But there will be Vince! Yay!  
  
Review? Pretty please? 


	2. Regression

All disclaimers and warnings still apply.  
  
  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Merton at four was a very skinny, scrawny kid with a disorderly mop of black hair. He hated sitting still long enough for Mommy to comb it, there were so many things to do with Vince and his little sister Becky. Becky wasn't quite two yet, but she could already talk and run a little. She would even say hi to Vince.  
  
Right now, Vince was making peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches for supper because Mommy was working late at the office and Daddy... well, Daddy wasn't a good cook anyway. Daddy was taking a nap on the couch, so they had to be really quiet so they wouldn't wake him. Daddy got cranky when he got woken up.  
  
"Soup's on!" Vince declared brightly, setting the plate of sandwiches on the table with a flourish.  
  
Merton giggled. "S'not soup, Vince, it's samwiches."  
  
The taller, green-haired boy - who was really old, at ~least~ ten - grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "Just eat up, little buddy."  
  
Merton didn't need telling twice; he'd been hungry since Daddy'd come home and the babysitter left. Becky ate the littler bits of sandwich that he tore off for her, and Vince sat down on the chair opposite Merton's to make faces at her. She and Merton laughed at him, but Merton was careful when he drank his milk. Once he'd forgotten to be careful and laughed milk right up his nose. That'd felt funny.  
  
Becky didn't have any obstacles. She squealed loudly, clapping her pudgy little hands as Vince poked her pink belly where it showed between her little shirt and her diaper. Not two seconds later, though, there was an even louder groan from the darkened living room. Merton's mouth went dry and the bite of sandwich stuck in his throat. They'd woken Daddy.  
  
The thundering footsteps of their father was like a knell of doom. Merton desperately tried t hush Becky, but she wouldn't stop squealing even when Vince disappeared as he tended to do when Daddy showed up. Daddy had made it quite clear that he hated it when Merton talked to his friend, which Merton thought was really unfair.  
  
Daddy staggered into the kitchen, his work clothes rumpled from sleeping in them. His bloodshot eyes scanned around the room, then focused on Becky, who finally stopped her gleeful shrieks. She peered innocently up at her father, who just sneered and headed straight for the fridge. He pulled out a beer, opened it, and drank it all in about twenty seconds. After he crushed the can, he looked at Merton accusatorily.  
  
"Where's your mother?" he growled, taking out another beer and opening it as he sat in the stop Vince had vacated.  
  
"M-mommy said she was working late tonight," Merton said, trying not to show his fear. Daddy got mad when Merton was afraid of him.  
  
"Finish your sandwich and get my smokes from my car," Daddy said, sipping his beer.  
  
Merton resisted a relieved sigh. Maybe Daddy wouldn't be mean tonight and then maybe Merton could get up to his room early and play with Vince before bedtime. He quickly downed the rest of his sandwich, but when he reached for his milk to wash it all down, his nervous fingers couldn't get a grip on the slick glass. It slipped out of his grip and fell to the table, spilling milk straight into Daddy's lap before rolling onto the floor and breaking.  
  
Daddy leapt up with a startled yelp that Merton would've giggled at if he hadn't been so afraid. Merton jumped up, too, and began sputtering apologies as he grabbed the dishcloth from the sink, carefully avoiding the broken glass.   
  
"I'm sorry, Daddy, I didn't mean to, it was an accident, really, I'm sorry," he said all in one breath as he began to mop up the mess. Already he could feel his bottom lip quivering, trying to hold back the frightened tears. Daddy hated it when Merton cried.   
  
Daddy didn't listen to the babbling of his son. He reached over the table and slapped him hard across the face. Merton went sprawling to the floor, hand landing on a sharp triangle of glass. He cried out, then began to sob in earnest, even as Becky began to wail.  
  
"Look what you've done now, you goddamn clumsy idiot!" Daddy snarled, coming to grab Merton by the wrist of his hurt hand. Daddy plucked the glass from his palm carelessly, then wrapped a dish towel around the cut. "Now go get my goddamn cigarettes out of my car before I get angry!"  
  
"Y-yessir," Merton mumbled before he dashed to obey, cheeks still stinging from the slap.  
  
When he returned with the pack of cigarettes in his hand, Daddy had swept the floor and wiped up the spill, but Becky was still screaming. Merton went to her and picked her up. She calmed as soon as she wrapped her chunky little arms around his neck. She was getting almost too heavy for him to carry, but it was better than Daddy deciding that Becky needed a good slap to shut her up.  
  
Daddy watched with a funny look on his face. "You two don't look anything alike, you know? You never were as cute as Becky. Ugly little shit. Can't see why she likes you so much."  
  
Merton flushed with shame, but didn't respond. Daddy lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. He blew the smoke into Merton's face. The boy coughed - so did Becky. The man scowled like it was Merton's fault.  
  
"Put her in the living room and get your skinny ass over here," he ordered.  
  
A feeling of dread filled Merton, and his legs shook as he once again obeyed. He put Becky in her playpen, but before he went back, Vince appeared and ruffled his hair.  
  
"It'll be okay, buddy. Vince'll watch Becky, and when Mommy gets home we'll go play Clue, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Merton whispered back. Vince bent down and gave Merton a quick hug.  
  
"What's taking so goddamn long? Get in here," Daddy said loudly from the kitchen.  
  
"I gotta go," Merton said reluctantly. Vince nodded and let him go with dragging feet back to the kitchen.  
  
Daddy was waiting for him, watching him with those cruel eyes. He shivered and bit his lip to keep it still.  
  
"C'mere," his father commanded.  
  
His legs moved automatically, feeling like robot legs instead of his own. He wanted to run away, but after the last time he did that, he knew he never would again. He'd had to stay in bed for a week after that. Daddy had told Mommy that Merton had fallen down the stairs. Merton didn't know why Daddy didn't let Mommy know that he punished him, but he did understand that he was safer when Mommy was home. Though sometimes, not even Mommy's presence could keep him safe. Daddy sometimes would just take him down into the basement and hit him there, then turn off all the lights and lock the doors. There were rats in the basement, sometimes, and if he fell asleep they'd bite his arms and legs. He hated the basement.  
  
As soon as he reached Daddy's side, the man spun him around by the shoulders and flipped up the back of his shirt. Then there was a horrible burning pain at the small of his back. He shouted before his father cuffed him and snarled at him to be quiet and take his licks like a man. That didn't stop the fit of coughing sobs that escaped from Merton's lungs. Daddy stuck the bent cigarette butt in the ashtray.  
  
"Don't you start crying, you wuss, or I'll ~really~ give you something to cry about," Daddy said callously, one of his favorite - and most effective - threats. "Now go get a freaking band-aid for your hand. Your mom won't like that you bled all over her white towel."  
  
Sniffling and whimpering like a kicked dog, Merton slunk out of the kitchen. It was better if he just did as he was told. He'd rebelled once, he'd run into the neighbor's garage and hid. When Daddy finally found him, he'd been madder than Merton had ever seen before. Then Daddy had taken him into the basement. When he was done, he got Mommy and pretended to be upset and scared because Merton had 'fallen' down the stairs.  
  
Vince helped with the band-aids because they were on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Merton had been having a good week. Monday was his first day at kindergarten. He loved it. He'd never been around so many other kids, so he didn't really know how to act. He was shy, but he liked to play pretend with a couple of the others. They were almost as good as Vince, who didn't like school so had stayed home. But there were two big, mean boys who picked on him. They called him some of the same names his Daddy did. But mean boys aside, he liked kindergarten. He could already count to a hundred. Mommy was happy, but Daddy just frowned at him.  
  
Still, Daddy took him to the baseball diamond on Tuesday and shown him how to play catch. He wasn't very good yet, but maybe if Daddy helped him practice he'd get better. Afterwards they'd gone out for ice-cream, and Daddy had even smiled at him. Maybe Daddy had decided he wasn't a noying, whatever that was. It sounded like a worm. Merton didn't want his father to think he was a worm.  
  
But when he woke up in the middle of the night to a familiar wetness in his bed, Merton wanted to cry. He'd done it again. He couldn't help it, though. He'd drunk all that milk at dinner, and then had dreams about going fishing with Daddy on a rushing river. It wasn't his fault he wet the bed. Anyone would have, right?  
  
Daddy wouldn't think so. Daddy got mad when Merton wet the bed. He always said that Merton was three years too old to be pissing his pants, even if he was asleep at the time. Last time this happened, Daddy had taken him into the basement. Merton shuddered at the memory.   
  
Maybe... maybe he could handle this himself, without waking up Mommy and Daddy. Then they wouldn't know and Daddy wouldn't get mad at him. He nodded to himself and got out of bed, quickly slipping out of his sodden, smelly pyjamas and into clean ones. Then he stripped the sheets from the bed, and piled them with his pyjamas. Then he gingerly picked the bunch up and snuck out of his room. The washer and dryer were in a room next to the kitchen. If he could just make it down there without waking Mommy and Daddy -   
  
Just as he was passing their room, he stepped on a squeaking floorboard. And froze, listening. His heart pounded, his breathing was fast and shallow. Had he woken his parents up? Would they realize what he was up to? When, after what seemed like an eternity, he hadn't heard anything and breathed a little sigh of relief. He gathered his nerves together and continued on his way. He was nearly to the top of the stairs when a heavy, threatening hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped about as high as he was tall.  
  
"What do you think you're doing, stomping around the house at this hour?" Daddy's voice asked, gravelly from sleep. "What are you carrying?"  
  
"N-nothing," Merton lied, then wished he hadn't. Daddy shook him so hard his teeth rattled.  
  
"Don't fucking lie, you stupid brat. I'm not blind, you know," his father said. Then his voice became more cruel, if that was possible. "You wet the bed again, didn't you?"  
  
Merton felt his mouth working, but no sound would come out. His vocal chords were paralyzed as the rest of him. Then Daddy was forcing him to walk down the stairs, following close behind. Merton felt tears of sheer terror seeping from his eyes, even if he couldn't cry out loud. Daddy shoved him into the laundry room, then took the bundle of soiled sheets from his son. He put them in the washer and started a cycle. Then he turned on Merton with a murderous glint in his eyes.  
  
"You were going to try and ~hide~ it from me, boy? You thought I wouldn't know? I'll ~always~ know, Merton. I can smell it on you. You're a filthy, stinking little bed-wetter. Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he hissed dangerously when Merton hung his head and stared at the floor. Merton's head snapped up, but apparently some of his sullenness had crept into his expression. "Don't look at me that way, you little shit."  
  
The backhanded slap knocked Merton to the floor. Blood began to drip from his nose. His father picked him up by the front of his pyjamas, then peeled the shirt off. He grabbed a belt that had been on the floor since he'd washed his dress slacks last week. He kicked the door shut before he shoved Merton against the wall, grinding the boy's cheek into the textured plaster.   
  
Merton heard the whistle in the air and tensed a second before the first lash fell. He gave a strangled gasp. It hurt worse than punches, worse than slaps, almost worse than burns. And they didn't stop coming, either. Lash after lash came down on his back, and it hurt so bad that he couldn't stop the hiccoughing sobs that issued from his throat. Daddy hissed insult after insult at him, careful not to raise his voice lest Mommy hear. Merton couldn't really hear the words anyway, his blood was roaring in his ears so loud he couldn't even hear the sound of the belt hitting his back, which felt wet now. He was sure he was bleeding, but that wasn't exactly new. When Daddy got made enough, he'd wear all his rings to punch Merton. Rings made dents and cuts that hurt worse than normal bruises.  
  
The world was getting harder to concentrate on, and Merton felt so dizzy. He closed his eyes and the world seemed to spin. He tired to open his eyes again, because he was certain he'd be sick if he kept spinning like this, but then he was falling, and he didn't stop even after he hit the floor...  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Vince had plasma bolts. And laser eye-beams. Merton had discovered this one night when he was in the basement, his back still oozing slowly from a whipping. Mom had gone for the weekend on business, leaving Merton and Becky in the tender care of their father. Dad had lost his job, too, which made him extra mean. When Merton had come home with an A+ on his math quiz, Dad started yelling something about him thinking he was too smart for his own good. Mom would have put the paper on the fridge, but Dad tore it to pieces and threw them away.  
  
And, stupidity of studipities, Merton had objected. He'd tried to get the paper away, and that had snapped Dad's short leash on his temper. Out came the belt and the only witness was a four-year-old Becky, who cried and cried until Dad told her to go upstairs or she'd get the same. That scared Merton more than anything. Dad would do this to Becky? Something inside him became sick at the thought.  
  
"I won't let him get Becky, too," he told Vince, who sat beside him on the steps. "He can do what he wants to me, but not Becky."  
  
Vince nodded, looking as serious as a thirteen-year-old with green peachfuzz could look. "Vince feels the same way about Merton."  
  
Merton sighed. "Yeah, I know. Too bad Dad can't see you."  
  
Just then, a very daring rat neither boy had noticed creeping up the stairs took a bite out of Merton's ankle. The younger boy gave a startled yip. Vince's face twisted with anger, his eyes glowing green for a second before twin balls of energy struck the offending rodent, which squealed an ear-splittingly high death note before it disappeared into a pile of smoking ashes. Merton felt his eyes become the size of dinner plates. He looked up at Vince to see his shock mirrored in his best friend's face.  
  
"What was that?" he asked, breathless with excitement, a smile creeping over his face.  
  
"Vince doesn't know. He was just so ~mad~ at the rat for trying to hurt you, he couldn't stop himself. It's never happened before," Vince said, just as excited but more puzzled.  
  
"Cool! You've got super powers! Can you fly?" Merton asked animatedly.  
  
"Vince'll try," Vince said, standing and brushing off his striped pants and rolling up his loudly checked sleeves. As he leapt from the stairs, he shouted, "Up, up, and away!"  
  
And promptly fell down and rolled to the foot of the stairs. He was okay, of course, being invincible and all, but Merton still winced in sympathy.  
  
"Okay, so you can't fly. What else can you do?" he asked.  
  
They spent the rest of the night testing for powers. When it was proven that Vince, while stronger than Merton by far, couldn't bend steel, got tangled in the cape Merton made for him out of the towel he'd used to keep from getting blood on the stairs, and wouldn't even try to read Merton's mind, they gave up. But they'd had fun, and when it came time to go to sleep, Merton curled his small frame almost comfortably onto a stair, covered with the erstwhile-cape, with Vince sitting in front of him to keep watch for rats.  
  
  
  
  
  
TBC...  
  
Review, please. ^_^ 


	3. Denial

All disclaimers and warnings still apply. Oh, and herein lies some completely accidental Tommy/Lori cutesy fluff. ^^;; Sorry, I didn't ~mean~ to.  
  
  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
  
Merton woke up in darkness, as was usual in the Lair. Sluggishly, he turned to look at his digital alarm clock to see the red glowing numerals proclaim that it was five-forty-three p.m. He flopped on his back, spreading his arms out across the entire width of his bed as he sighed. He hadn't gotten to sleep until seven this morning, it was only fitting that he overslept ~this~ much. However, it only meant that he'd have even ~more~ trouble falling asleep tonight.  
  
He reflected sardonically over the fact that no one in his family had bothered to wake him. They probably didn't even notice he hadn't been up from the basement, even for food. Well, maybe Becky had noticed - and been grateful. He smirked slightly at that, and decided that he really didn't ~want~ to get up. After all, he was nice and comfy warm right where he was. Sleep hadn't been completely chased from his mind yet, and the dark around him was lulling him into a doze...  
  
A knock at the door startled him. He sat bolt upright in a reflexive move, glancing at his clock again. To his surprise, it was already past seven. With a rush, he remembered that Lori and Tommy were supposed to be coming over. He was halfway to his dresser when the knock sounded again. He paused, frowning. Tommy never knocked. Neither did Lori, for that matter, which now that he thought of it was really rude. However, that brought up the question of who would actually knock on his door?  
  
A cold hand gripped his heart. It could only be one person. And he did ~not~ want to see this person.  
  
He tiptoed back to his bed, heart pounding. What if the person outside his door had heard him moving around? Would he burst in? Would he wait until Merton left the house? Merton crouched down on the far side of the bed, hiding behind a mound of pillows and trying to keep his breath from speeding up. God, he was so pathetic. Had he really stayed this much of a weakling, this much of a coward? He would have given a self-deprecating laugh if the situation hadn't been so dire.  
  
"Shit," he murmured under his breath.  
  
After a few minutes, the knocking stopped its intervals. Fifteen minutes after that, Merton finally began to breathe easily again. It was nearly seven-thirty, he had to get ready for his movie night with his friends. It wouldn't do for them to find him all sleep-scruffy in his pyjamas still. They might suspect something out of the ordinary. So he got up, stretching the cramps out of his muscles. He knew his way around his room so well that he didn't even have to turn on the light to make it into his bathroom. He winced when the bright light hit his eyes, but he needed a shower to feel human again.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Tommy chased Lori down the stairs to Merton's door, grabbing at her sides to tickle her. She was so cute when he brushed the exact right spot that made her scrunch up her nose and give a girlish giggle - of course, every time he actually hit that spot, he got a hard swat on his arms, shoulders, head, or gut, whichever was closest to Lori at the time. She ~hated~ sounding girly, even for a moment.  
  
They paused to catch their breaths when they reached the door. Tommy used the moment for a quick kiss - Merton was right when he'd said it was weird trying to be romantic with a third person around; the jock just wanted to get it out of his system before he had to act like he had control over his hormones tonight. When they broke apart, Lori grinned slyly up at him, then her hands, which had wrapped around Tommy's waist, twisted. Tommy gasped before he started laughing helplessly.  
  
"S-s-stahah- stop - it!" he managed to stutter as Lori mercilessly pressed her advantage. "No fair!"  
  
"Turnabout is fair play," she retorted wickedly. "Promise you'll never do this to me again."  
  
"I-I pro- haha - p-promise," Tommy agreed. Lori ceased reluctantly, leaning against him.  
  
"Mmm. Whaddaya say we blow Merton off and go back to my place," she suggested. She often said things like that, and Tommy was never sure if she was serious or joking, and while sometimes - like right now- the offers were tempting, it bothered him to think that she thought so little of ditching their mutual friend.  
  
"I thought you wanted to watch 'The One.'"  
  
"What good is watching Jet Li when I have my own bad-ass right here," she said, hugging him. He returned the gesture, inhaling the scent of her hair. Then he smiled.  
  
"Lori?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I had my fingers crossed."  
  
Lori tried to get away, but Tommy's hands already had found the twin spots on her sides and she fairly shrieked with laughter and surprise. As he backed her towards the door, Tommy noticed a piece of paper taped to Merton's door. He paused, and that hesitation was enough for Lori to wallop him a good one on the noggin.  
  
"Ow!" he said, holding the wolf back as he rubbed what would be a painful lump in a few moments.  
  
"Serves you right," Lori sniffed, unrepentant. "Let's just go inside and watch the movie."  
  
"Hang on," Tommy said, his words forestalling his girlfriend from opening the door. He reached over her shoulder and plucked the paper down.  
  
"What's that?" she asked.  
  
"Merton got one of these yesterday, too. The kids next door apparently are giving him a hard time, but he wouldn't let me do anything about it. He wouldn't even let me read the note they left him," Tommy explained.  
  
"That's strange," Lori said, a small frown playing over her features. "I thought he liked it when you stopped people from harassing him."  
  
"He does. At least, I thought so, too."  
  
"Maybe what they're teasing him about is something really embarrassing that he doesn't want us to know about?" Lori thought out loud.  
  
"Maybe," Tommy said, contemplating the paper in his hand.  
  
"Well? Are we gonna read it or are we going in?"  
  
Tommy answered by unfolding the paper and reading it aloud. "'Merton, I'm serious about this. Meet me at the gazebo in the park tomorrow at eleven p.m. Don't tell anyone. If you don't show, I'll come looking for you.' There's no signature or anything."  
  
"That doesn't sound like he's being teased to me," Lori pronounced. "Sounds more like a secret girlfriend or something."  
  
"I dunno. It sounds suspicious to me," Tommy replied. "I'm going to ask him about it. Let's go in."  
  
The Lair was pitch black when they entered. The only light came from the crack under the bathroom door. Tommy flipped the light switch on as Lori closed the door behind them. Then she crossed to the television set, taking the tape from its case. She plugged it into the VCR and settled back on the couch to wait for Merton to emerge. Tommy joined her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.   
  
"You know what's kinda weird?" he began.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Last night, Merton asked me to ask you if it would be okay for the three of us to be a group from Family Values Week," Tommy said.  
  
Lori turned her head to look up at him skeptically. "Yeah, right. He's against everything the Republican party stands for, family values included."  
  
"No, he really did. I think he's depressed about his family. I mean, we're really lucky that ours care about us and are there for us and stuff. But look at what Merton's got. Have you ever even ~seen~ his mom or dad? And Becky is such a little bitch to him all the time, it's like she really actually hates him," Tommy said, airing out thoughts he'd been having since his conversation with Merton last night.  
  
Lori frowned a little. "That's true. But how is him being our partner for a home ec project going to change anything? Besides which, a threesome is hardly what Family Values Week is all about."  
  
Tommy flushed at the word 'threesome.' He hadn't thought about ~that.~ She actually had a point there. A woman with two husbands at the same time probably wouldn't go over well with the highly traditional teacher.  
  
"If he wants family support, maybe he should try talking with his once in a while. You've seen how he is, hiding down here all the time unless he needs food or Yoo-Hoo. Maybe he chose not to be with his family," Lori continued with a shrug.  
  
Before Tommy could respond, the bathroom door swung open and they turned to greet their friend. Merton, standing just outside the still-steamy bathroom and wearing only a towel around his waist, froze in surprise. Then his face turned bright red. Tommy laughed, which only made him turn redder.  
  
"Oh, you guys are here already," he said, edging self-consciously towards his dresser.  
  
"Hey," Lori called. "Hurry up and get dressed; there're kickass fight scenes awaiting me."  
  
"Yeah. I'll do that. You guys can start without me," Merton said, pulling clothes out of his drawers without turning around. He gave his high-pitched nervous laugh, then dashed back into the bathroom without further ado, the door slamming behind him.  
  
Tommy and Lori shared a look before bursting out laughing.  
  
"Something tells me we startled him," the blonde chuckled, then pushed the play button on the remote control.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
In the bathroom, Merton was trying not to freak out. Had they noticed? Granted, he'd tried to keep his back out of sight, but they still might have seen. If they had seen, would they know? What would they do if they did? Would they pity him? He didn't want their pity. But what if they saw and thought him weak now? Not that they didn't already know he was weak, but...  
  
Merton sighed heavily, running his hands through his wet hair. Good Lord. They probably hadn't noticed. After all, there was a reason he didn't go out in the sun besides being Goth. He himself could barely make out the scars anymore, not unless he actually touched his back. The myriad of cris-crossing scars he'd gained from the belt-whippings had diminished over the years to thin white lines that wouldn't tan no matter what he did. So, to avoid awkward questions from parents or strangers, he simply didn't go outside without a shirt on. He hadn't been to the beach since he was in first grade.  
  
Of course, the cigarette burns were easier to spot. They would always be pink and kind of bumpy, but they were all on his lower back, and they'd been covered up by the towel. The only way Tommy and Lori would ever see those would be if they caught him naked. He flushed when he remembered the invisibility fiasco. Tommy ~had~ seen him naked - as had most of the student body. Merton just thanked his lucky stars that everyone was probably too distracted by the nakedness itself to actually notice what he looked like.  
  
He decided he'd spent enough time hiding in his bathroom, so he pulled his clothes on and went out into the living room to catch the opening credits of 'The One.' He plunked down in the overstuffed chair next to the couch, then groaned.  
  
"Another martial arts flick? Why does Lori always get to pick the movies?" he whined.  
  
"Because all the movies ~you~ choose are horrible 'B' horror movies," Lori said, sticking her tongue out.  
  
"Yeah, either that or they have subtitles. I can't stand all those artsy shows," Tommy grumbled.   
  
"Uncultured Philistines," Merton replied teasingly.  
  
"Be quiet," Lori commanded. "I don't wanna miss the plot setup."  
  
"Yeah, right. Like there's going to be a plot."  
  
Lori threw a pillow at him, which he fended off with a small laugh. He could pretend things were normal. He wasn't hiding physical and emotional scars, or the fact that a man with a grudge against him was trying to get a hold of him. He was just a regular teenager hanging out with his friends. That was all he let himself focus on until about halfway through the excruciatingly pointless movie, when Tommy spoke up again.  
  
"By the way, I found another of those notes on your door," he said, ending all enjoyment Merton had been having.  
  
"Oh. Really," the goth replied, trying to hide his sudden rush of nerves under an aloof exterior. But he knew it was probably hopeless; already he felt himself paling.  
  
"I read it, too," Tommy said.  
  
"Y-you did?" Merton felt sweat spring up on his skin. "What did ~this~ one say?"  
  
"Whoever wrote it wants you to meet then in the park tomorrow night," Lori said. "How 'bout you tell us who's ~really~ writing these notes, huh? Is it a girl? Cause if it is, I don't understand why you didn't just tell us. I mean, you usually won't shut up when it comes to a girl you like."  
  
"It- It's not a girl," he stammered. Then he saw the raised eyebrows and wide eyes his friends stared at him with and realized what they must be thinking. He flushed. "No! It's not like that at all! I'm not having a secret affair with anyone, okay?"  
  
"Then who wrote the note?" Tommy asked.  
  
"No one you guys know. No one that matters," Merton told them, trying to keep the dark, bitter edge from his voice.  
  
"Are you going to go meet them?" Lori wanted to know.  
  
Merton shook his head. "No way in hell."  
  
Tommy frowned. "What's really going on, Merton?"  
  
"Nothing important," the smaller boy said, a hint of sharpness entering his voice.  
  
"Merton, whoever wrote that note says that if you don't meet them at the gazebo in the park tomorrow at eleven, they're going to come looking for you," Lori said. "If it's not a chick, who the hell is it? Is someone bullying you?"  
  
"No one!" Merton denied, throwing his hands up. He drew back from them, folding his arms over his chest as he tried to restrain his fear and temper. "Look, if was important, wouldn't I tell you guys? If someone was trying to hurt me, wouldn't I come running straight for you guys? We all know that I suck at self-defense. But it's nothing that I can't handle on my own, so you guys don't need to worry about it, all right?"  
  
Now both Tommy and Lori frowned at him. He sighed huffily in exasperation.  
  
"What is it gonna take to convince you that there's nothing to worry about?" he demanded.  
  
"I think you should go meet this person," Lori said. "And we should come with. We'll stay out of sight, of course, because the note said you shouldn't tell anyone. But I think that all will be revealed if we go."  
  
Merton froze in horror at the idea of not only confronting his father, but at the suggestion that Tommy and Lori witness it. He dumbly shook his head.  
  
"No," he said, then winced inwardly at how weak and thready his voice suddenly sounded. He was on the verge of losing control. "No, I won't do that."  
  
"Well, then, we'll go by ourselves. We know the time and place. We'll find out for ourselves without you," Lori said, moving to stand. "Come on, Tommy."  
  
"No! You can't!" Merton objected, a rush of panic of a different sort dulling the fear. "You can't do that!"  
  
"Why not?" Tommy asked, that determined look on his face. He knew Merton was hiding something, and he wouldn't be satisfied until Merton spilled the beans.  
  
"You don't understand," he said desperately.  
  
"Then tell us so we do," Tommy challenged, standing up with Lori. They looked down at him, and he felt their gazes burning into him.  
  
"I - I can't," he said, voice almost a whisper as he fought the breakdown that was imminent. He wouldn't allow himself to be so weak in front of them both. "Don't you see I can't?"  
  
"Then we'll find out on our own," Lori said. "See you on Monday."  
  
They left unceremoniously. Merton gulped air, trying to stay focused long enough to see a way out of the situation. A way that didn't entail Tommy and Lori finding out. He could see none. Shit. That meant he had to choose between meeting his father again and seeing what the bastard wanted in front of Tommy and Lori, or cower in his room while his friends found out for themselves. He had to choose an evil, and neither one was lesser than the other.  
  
  
  
  
TBC...  
  
  
  
Review, please. ^_^ Thank you! 


	4. Trauma

All disclaimers and warnings still apply.   
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Merton bounced in his seat, glancing at the clock every two seconds. It was almost recess. He could hardly wait. It was Becky's first day at school, and he was worried about her. His first day hadn't gone very well, considering Tim and Travis had made fun of him for talking to Vince on the playground. After that, Vince decided to stay home. Merton didn't blame him, school could be really awful. He just wanted to make sure that his sister was doing fine, that she wasn't suffering the way he had.  
  
Finally, the bell rang. Merton barely waited for the teacher to dismiss his class before he took off for the door, and then for outside. He would reserve the best two swings on the playground for him and his sister, and he could talk to her and make her laugh. Maybe then they could go play pretend or something. He didn't even think that his sister might've made friends. After all, ~he~ hadn't. He'd been looking forward to this day for a long time. He knew Becky liked him. At least now he'd have someone to talk to, even if she was only a girl.  
  
He sat on his favorite swing and turned so his feet rested on the one next to him, effectively preventing any other children from taking them. When he saw Becky come out of the building, he waved and called to her. She waved back and came running to the swing set. So did another little girl. Merton blinked in surprise.  
  
"Hey, Becky," he said cheerfully. "How's it going?"  
  
"I like kindy-garden!" she bubbled, grinning from ear to ear. "Teacher is really nice to me, and this is my friend Christy. Christy, this is my brother Merton."  
  
"Hi," Christy said shyly.  
  
"Hi," Merton replied. The conversation stopped there, however, because just then a gang of boys from Merton's class surrounded them.  
  
"Hey, freak," one of them called. "What're you doing talking to my little sister?"  
  
"Yeah, weirdo," said another. "You're gonna give her cooties."  
  
"Shut up," Merton said, glaring around him. "You guys just leave us alone."  
  
"Who's your friend, Christy?" the first boy asked, eyeing Becky suspiciously. Becky blushed and looked down.  
  
"She's Becky," Christy said.  
  
"Why are you two hanging out with the freak? Don't you know he has germs?"  
  
"Germs?" asked Christy with wide eyes. The gang of boys all nodded solemnly.  
  
"Freak germs," one of them went on. "If he touches you, you get germs on you, and then you turn into a freak, too."  
  
"Eww!" Christy said, wrinkling her little button nose.  
  
"I don't have germs!" Merton protested angrily. He glanced over at Becky, looking for a little support. However, Becky was still staring at the ground, biting her lip.  
  
"Do too," the boys insisted.  
  
"Do not!"  
  
"Do too!"  
  
"Do not!"  
  
The conversation deteriorated from there. The encounter ended with Tim and Travis pushing Merton off his swings and taking the seats for themselves. Merton got up to get away, but Tim came swinging down, careening right into him and sending him flying. He gasped for air, hoping the recess teacher saw the incident, but he new how these things worked. The bullies always had a distraction of some sort for cover before they even approached Merton. At least he had Becky here. He looked around for his sister to ask for her help in getting up, seeing as how he could barely breathe. He only became distressed when he couldn't find her.  
  
Anger flooded through him. had they got his sister, too? Had they done what Dad had failed to do? He dragged himself up, panting. He scanned the playground, looking for the ring of children that denoted the confrontations between bullies and victims. There were none. He frowned, still searching. Then he spotted Becky's neon-pink zooba pants. She was sitting on top of the monkey bars with Christy - and Christy's brother. Merton felt his jaw drop as anger was replaced by shock and hurt.  
  
Becky glanced at him. Their eyes locked for a brief moment before the girl simply looked away, turning back to her new friends.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Christmas vacation came as a great relief. Merton walked home alone; Becky had been riding to and from school with Christy and her family since the second day of kindergarten. The bright sunny day was perfect to be outside in. Vince walked along beside him, humming the Smurfs theme song as they tramped across the fresh snow that had been falling all day. They were content and looking forward two weeks full of icy adventures in the backyard, hot cocoa, and playing Clue. Things were as good as they were going to get for them.  
  
"D'you think Becky will play with us now that she's not in school?" Vince asked. He missed Becky as much as Merton did. The dark-haired boy just shrugged. Vince sighed. "Is Dad home still?"  
  
"Mom said he hasn't found another job yet, so I guess he will be," Merton explained.  
  
"It's going to be a different kind of Christmas, isn't it, Merton?"  
  
It was Merton's turn to sigh. "Yeah."  
  
They got home later than usual because they had to make a detour to a neighbor's back yard to pick the long icicles that grew from the ledge of a small shed.. When they walked in the back door, Merton instantly knew something was wrong. He could hear crying from the basement, and the lower growl of his father. He couldn't make out the words, but he knew from experience what was probably being said. He peeled himself out of his heavy coat and dropped it and his bookbag on the floor, the icicles landing on top of it and shattering. Heedless, he pelted down the steep steps.  
  
"You leave her alone!" he shouted before he even saw what was going on. Then he heard the sick slap of a palm on flesh and his vision became red around the edges. Dad held Becky down with one hand around the back of her neck, shoving her face against the rough concrete floor. He'd pulled the back of Becky's dress up so he could slap her back, thighs, and rear end. He looked up as Merton charged him.  
  
Merton wasn't even really aware of what he was doing. He screamed and flailed his arms at his father, raining blow after blow down on the man, for all the good it did. Dad shouted in rage, turning on Merton. He easily fended off the attack, then closed a meaty fist around Merton's thin neck. Merton tried to gasp, but found he could barely breathe. He clawed at the fingers around his throat desperately as he found himself being lifted off the ground. His eyes rolled, his tongue lolled as he struggled to breathe. Vaguely he was aware of Becky sobbing loudly, and he wanted to tell her to run, that it was okay if she ran. He understood.  
  
The world was getting dark around the edges. His head was spinning, and he had less and less strength with which to struggle. He felt so heavy. He could barely move his arms. He was going to die. If he could have sighed, he would have - as much in relief as in defeat. Then there was a bright flash of green light, and suddenly Merton was on the floor, coughing. When his vision returned, Dad was laying on the basement floor, too, and Becky was tugging on his arm.  
  
"Merton, Merton, Merton," she sobbed, her face scraped and already bruising. Wordlessly, he gave her a hug and looked around for Vince. The older boy was at the foot of the stairs, gesturing wildly.  
  
"Run! Run upstairs and hide in Becky's closet!" he commanded.  
  
Merton had no problems obeying. He and Becky half ran, half supported each other up the flights of stairs, not stopping until they were safely behind the door to Becky's closet. They sat there in the dark for an eternity, holding onto each other and shaking. Merton had to keep shushing Becky because every few minutes her terrified sniffles threatened to become full-out sobs. If Dad heard them, they were as good as dead. The strain must have been too much for her, though, because she went from almost bawling to dead asleep within seconds.  
  
Vince appeared shortly after. He wrapped an arm around Merton's shoulders, and it was Merton's turn to let loose. He sniffled and sniffled until he was so exhausted he could barely move. His throat really hurt, and he was grateful that he'd have two weeks for the bruises he knew were forming to heal. He didn't want the kids at school to know that his Dad had tried to kill him.  
  
"Thanks, Vince," Merton whispered. He knew that the green flash he saw must have been Vince's plasma bolts. Vince had been longing to use them on Dad for a while now, but Merton had frobidden him to. Now, however, he really didn't mind. "If you hadn't stopped him - "  
  
"No problem, little buddy. Vince would have been sad if Dad had killed you," the green-haired boy said seriously.  
  
Just then, they heard a car door slam and an engine rumble to life. There was a screech of tires, and then... nothing. Vince sighed with relief. Merton looked up at him questioningly.  
  
"He's gone," Vince told him. "Vince got rid of him."  
  
"Gone? For good?" Merton asked, receiving a vigorous nod. Dad was gone. He'd never see Merton again. Profound relief flooded through him, because he knew that if Dad ever came back, he'd get a beating to make all his other ones seem like mere slaps on the wrist.  
  
"Get some sleep, buddy. Mom won't be home for a while yet," Vince said, gently pushing Merton down next to Becky on the pile of stuffed animals and dress-up clothes that littered the floor of Becky's closet. Gratefully, Merton laid down, and still euphoric with relief, slept exhaustedly.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Merton stared up at his ceiling, wondering how the place he used to fear the most had become his sanctuary. After his step-father had remodeled it, the basement had seemed worlds away from the horrific place he'd been punished in. And with all his gothic decorations, books, television, CD player, and all inevitable stuff teenagers managed to collect, it seemed as if his room ~was~ another world, seperate from the house the rest of his family lived in. That was why he called it the Lair.  
  
Becky never remembered any of it. When Mom had come home and found the two of them cowering in the closet, she'd been hysterical. She'd questioned them both, but Becky couldn't answer any of the inquiries. When Mom had accepted the truth - which she did quite easily, and that made Merton wonder if Dad hadn't hit her, too. He never felt brave enough to ask, though. - she forbade Merton from telling Becky about it. Saying something like, what she doesn't know won't hurt her. Too young to know better, Merton agreed.  
  
No one in their family was heartbroken over the sudden disappearance of Mr. Dingle, and their neighbors chose to ignore the entire incident. No one was particularly surprised when Mrs. Dingle remarried that summer. Merton got to be the ringbearer. He didn't like his new father too much, but at least he didn't get hit anymore. He'd been happy to just fade into the background, just let Mom and his step-father moon over Becky and her preciousness. His own accomplishments were not so meager, either. He'd been getting straight A-plusses since Dad left, but no one seem to care anymore.  
  
Merton snorted. He bet they wouldn't have cared if he'd flunked out of school. He bet that if he just vanished one day like his father, no one would notice. He bet if he committed suicide in his shower, Becky would whine about having to clean up the blood.  
  
Well, perhaps that was a little unfair.  
  
Still, though, after five hours of sitting in his favorite thinking chair, sipping Yoo-Hoo to calm his nerves, and listening to his Tool CD, he was no closer to a decision. Would he go? Would he confront his fears like any person with the least amount o self-confidence and courage would? Or would he stay in his room, his Lair, and brood fearfully until Tommy and Lori came to confront ~him~ about what they'd undoubtedly learn from his father.  
  
Would his father even try anything violent? After all, ten years was a long time to hold a grudge. Maybe all he wanted was to apologize, or to try and get to know him. While Merton found this very unlikely, he reasoned that maybe it was just his cynical, distrustful nature that led him to be suspicious. After all, when everyone he'd ever cared about had betrayed him - Dad first, then Becky, then Mom - how could anyone expect him to trust anyone? He'd learned that fateful day on the playground that the first rule of survival was "Look out for number one."  
  
Now he was starting to see the flaws in what had become his personal mantra. Tommy and Lori had somehow wormed their way past his best defenses. He trusted them - almost against his will. And yet, many times when the pressure was on he'd slipped back into his old patterns. He'd left them alone to fight many times and tried to weasle his way out of trouble at their expense just as often. He really was too selfish to have such good friends. He didn't know what they saw in him.  
  
  
// "Can't see why she likes you so much." //  
  
  
"Ugly little shit," Merton muttered to himself with a self-mocking smile, repeating the oft-used insult. Sometimes, he thought he understood why his father hated him so much. He hated himself, too. Perhaps that was one of the scariest things he'd had to come to terms with. He actually felt sometimes that his father might have been justified. Maybe if Dad ~had~ killed him...  
  
Merton let the thought trail off. That was another frightening thing. He distinctly remembered being relieved when he thought he'd die that night. How messed up can one child be? What kind of seven-year-old welcomes death?  
  
What kind of eighteen-year-old does, for that matter?   
  
Merton sighed tiredly, shifting on his chair and running his fingers through his hair. He hadn't bothered to but it back into spikes after his shower, seeing as how he wouldn't be going out, and now was glad that he could indulge in his favored nervouse gesture without getting his hand stuck halfway.  
  
He couldn't stay. He couldn't go.  
  
He couldn't go. He couldn't stay.  
  
He couldn't decide.  
  
  
  
TBC....  
  
  
  
Sorry about the wishy-washy ending, but I promise the next chapter will be better. Review, okay? Pretty please? 


	5. Confrontation

All disclaimers and warnings still apply. Oh, and the computer I'm using has no spell checker, and my beta has gone off to college. Many apologies for mispellings. I did my best to catch them.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Tommy and Lori crept into the park, keeping low to stay hidden by the bushes and shrubs. The gazebo in the middle of the park stood empty and dark against the blueish illumination of the street light. Mist curled around their ankles as it tended to do in Pleasantville, and they were glad of the way it muffled their footsteps on the blanket of damp leaves. They stopped behind a tall lilac bush just behind the gazebo, within hearing distance.   
  
"Do you think he'll show?" Tommy asked in a hushed voice.  
  
"Which, Merton or this other person?" Lori whispered back, brushing back twigs that obstructed her view of the structure in front of them.  
  
"Merton."  
  
"Well, it's his choice. I don't know. If he ~doesn't~ come, I think we should take this person to the Lair. I think that note sounded important, and Merton is being a sissy. I mean, sure, this must be bad if it's enough to shake him up like it has, but with us watching his back, it's not like he has anything to be afraid of. We've kicked baddie ass for him before, after all."  
  
Tommy shifted next to her, uncomfortable with more than the cool dampness of the night. "But this is ~his~ business, and it just feels... strange. This whole situtation feels wrong. Something is just... I don't know. I've got a bad feeling. I mean, Merton looked awful yesterday after we brought up the note. He's not telling us something important. Maybe we shouldn't mess with him this way."  
  
"Tommy, we're ~not~ messing with him. We're helping him," Lori said, scanning the park.   
  
"If he wanted our help, he would have asked. He knows we'd be there. Instead, he specifically asked us not to - "  
  
"It's a little late for second thoughts," she whispered suddenly, gesturing. Tommy looked to see a tall masculine silhouette crossing towards them and fell silent. The man stepped up into the gazebo, then sat down on one of the benches to wait.  
  
"That must be him," Tommy mouthed to Lori. "The mystery man."  
  
Lori nodded, and they settled back in wait for Merton. Tommy had a feeling they'd be waiting a long time. After all, everyone knew Merton was a bit of a coward, even though he had proven himself capable of bravery several times. Tommy knew from the way Merton had acted last night that the goth would do anything to avoid this confrontation. He'd never seen Merton that shaken and scared before, and that was saying a lot.  
  
After about twenty minutes, he and Lori locked eyes and nodded. It was time to enact their plan, even if it was against Tommy's better judgement. After all, maybe Lori was right. They crept around to the front of the gazebo, and the man inside jumped to his feet.  
  
"Who's there?" he demanded.  
  
"We're here to take you to Merton's house," Lori piped up in an innocent tone. "He said to tell you he's sorry he couldn't make it, but he had a lot of homework. So he sent us to come get you."  
  
"Who are you? How did you know I was trying to talk to Merton?" the man demanded suspiciously, his hands shifting in the deep pockets of his longish jacket. The feeling in Tommy's gut that told him something was definitely not right intensified. There was... something about this man... A tinny, metallic scent that clung to him, barely detectible even to Tommy's werewolf senses yet undeniably there.  
  
"We're Lori and Tommy, Merton's friends. We accidentally read the note you left him yesterday," Lori answered. "We asked him about it, but he wouldn't say anything, other than to ask us to get you. Who are you?"  
  
"I'm... I'm Merton's father," the man said, voice changing from confrontational to sad and wistful in a heartbeat. Both teens stared in shock. Whatever they had expected, it was certainly not that.  
  
"H-his father?" Lori stammered weakly.  
  
"But... I've seen Merton's dad... you're not him," Tommy managed to get out.  
  
"I'm his ~real~ father," the man explained, a hint a bitterness in his tone. "I left when he was just a kid. I - I don't know why. I was an alcoholic at the time and a horrible parent. So I left. As soon as I got my life back together, I realized what a mistake I made. So now... I want to see him. See what kind of man he turned out to be."  
  
Tommy crossed his arms and tried to control the instant distrust this man aroused in him. He couldn't help wondering why this guy spilled the whole story so easily when just a second ago he looked like he was about to run away as if he was guilty of something. Not to mention that he didn't really know whether to believe this crackpot story about him being Merton's long lost father. Lori, however, seemed to take it at face value. Her expression softened.  
  
"I knew it was something important," she whispered to Tommy from the corner of her mouth, too low for the man to hear. Then she went on more loudly. "Well, we'll take you to Merton's house, okay?"  
  
The man smiled, and it made Tommy's hackles stand on end. "Thank you."  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Merton heard them coming down the stairs and closed his eyes as a wave of anticipated dread filled him. He knew it was Tommy and Lori, come back from their meeting with his father. How much would he have told them? Surely he wouldn't have admitted to abusing him. Bragging about beating a child to near-death was not something sane people did. He wasn't even sure that his father ~was~ sane, trying to contact him as the man was, but a slip-up like that would just be utterly stupid. But then, what would his father have said?  
  
The door opened. Merton didn't jump and gave himself a silent congratulation, heavily tinged with sarcasm. He didn't turn towards the door, though, just sat rocking gently in his cushy computer chair, facing his wall of books.  
  
"Hey, Merton," Tommy called. "Come out, man."  
  
Time to bite the bullet. Slowly, he got up and turned around. Then gasped and took a rapid step backward, so his scars were pressed against his bookshelf. Behind Tommy in the doorway stood a terribly familiar figure, one he'd hoped he'd never see again. Lori stood directly beside his father, looking both smugly pleased with herself and sympathetic. He knew his fear showed on his face, because Tommy frowned and glanced back at the man with poorly concealed suspicion.   
  
There was a very long, very tense silence as Merton stared at his father and the older man stared right back. Mr. Dingle had hardly changed. Even the more plentiful lines on his face didn't seem out of place; they were in the same places as when Mr. Dingle's face had been contorted in fury. Merton knew that face too well. And his eyes hadn't changed at all. They still held that cruel, calculating spark and... something else. Something that made Merton want to run very far away and hide.  
  
"Merton," croaked Mr. Dingle at last, sounding as if he was choked with emotion. He opened his arms wide, an invitation. "My son."  
  
It was too much. The fact that his friends would do this to him, betray him by letting a monster as evil as any other they'd fought into his own bedroom piled on top of years of fearing this man and the last twenty-four hours of mind-wrenching emotional torture. That Mr. Dingle would attemp to pull off a melodramatic, made-for-TV-movie sort of tearful reunion was the funniest thing that had happened all day. Merton let loose one giggle. Then another. And then they wouldn't stop coming. The three newcomers across the room all stared in bewilderment as Merton's sides began to ache. He doubled over, clutching his stomach with one hand and wiping the tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes with the other.  
  
"Merton, are you okay?" Tommy asked, taking several steps towards him, but Merton ignored the advance. Instead, his hysterical mirth died down as sudden rage heated his blood, burning away the fear as he stood to fix his eyes on his father.  
  
"Just like that, huh?" he asked, a humorless smile curving his lips. "Just like that. Do you actually expect me to come over there and give you a hug, for Christ's sake? Are you really that stupid? Or do you just think ~I~ am?"  
  
Mr. Dingle's arms fell slowly to his sides, a look of hurt playing over his features. "No. No, I suppose not. I - I came to apologize, Merton. For... well, everything. And if you'd just let me explain - "  
  
"~No!~" Merton shouted, and Lori and Tommy jumped in surprise at his vehemence. "I don't want to hear any explanations or excuses or reasons! I never want to hear from you again! Get out! Get out of my room, get out of Pleasantville, and get the ~fuck~ out of my life, where you belong!"  
  
"But-" Lori said, looking alarmedly from Merton's livid face to Mr. Dingle's dejected one.   
  
"Lori," Tommy stopped her with a warning in his tone. He turned to Mr. Dingle and said, "You should probably leave."  
  
Mr. Dingle gazed at Merton for a long moment, a uninterprettable emotion lurking in his eyes. Then he nodded sadly, turned, and left without a word. Merton watched him go, not for a moment believing that he'd go with that little of a fuss. He'd be back, and he'd be angry. Merton's fury lessened as some was transmuted to fear once more. He'd just made his father's wrath worse. As soon as he was alone, Mr. Dingle would return and there would be no witnesses. Shit.  
  
But that didn't mean he was letting Lori and Tommy off the hook easy. Oh no. His eyes narrowed as the blonde girlcame to stand beside her boyfriend on the other side of the desk. They had the decency to look ashamed.  
  
"I told you not to," he said accusingly.  
  
Lori looked down and shuffled her feet. "We were trying to help."  
  
Merton laughed hollowly and saw them both wince at the sound. "Somehow, I doubt that."  
  
"We didn't ~know~ it would be your father," she replied defensively. "You weren't particularly helpful last night, you know. And this situation wouldn't go away on its own, you know. At least now he's gone."  
  
"You really think that?" Merton asked, trying not to let his fear show and knowing he was failing miserably. "You don't know anything about it. You don't know anything about ~him.~"  
  
"That's because you never told us!" Lori snapped.  
  
"And suddenly I have to tell you everything?" Merton shot back, gearing up for a fight and welcoming the release of tension.  
  
"Guys!" Tommy interrupted, and Lori, at least, subsided. Merton just glowered mutinously at him. "Fighting doesn't help anything. Merton, we're sorry we got involved when you told us not to. Right, Lori?"  
  
"Right," Lori agreed readily and sighed, looking down at her feet for a moment before meeting Merton's eyes. "But I really did just want to help you. And don't get mad at Tommy; he didn't really want to come with me."  
  
Merton didn't say anything for a beat. He was quickly losing what feeble control he had over his emotions, which roiled in his mind and heart like a storm.   
  
"I - want you guys to leave. Now," he bit out, his throat thickening.  
  
"Are you sure? What about - " Tommy began, but Merton cut him off with a sharp gesture.  
  
"Please," Merton interrupted sharply. "Just go."  
  
Tommy scanned the shorter boy's face, then sighed and nodded. He turned to go, tugging on Lori's arm. The girl didn't move. Tommy pulled a little harder, but she shrugged his hand off and stuck her chin out defiantly, staring angrily at Merton. She advanced two steps to put her hands flat on the computer desk and leaned over into Merton's personal space.  
  
"So that's it? We don't even get to find out what the hell is going on?" she demanded loudly.  
  
Merton scowled at her. "You're hardly one to talk. You took it upon ~yourself~ to stick your nose in, I don't owe you a freaking explanation."  
  
"Maybe you wouldn't if we'd never spoken before now," she replied heatedly. "But we're your ~friends~, Merton. God, sometimes it's like we might as well be stangers for all I know about you. You know all about Tommy and me, you know our pasts and our secrets backwards and forwards. But you! You just hide it all inside, and then you act like a spaz and freak to cover everything up. You hold us at arm's length, and I'm sick of it!"  
  
"What the ~fuck~ do you want to know?" Merton shouted back, Lori's outburst enough to make him lose it. "What sort of secrets do you want to hear, huh? Do you wanna hear about my ~father~?" He spat the word as if it was a curse. "Do you wanna hear how he kicked the shit out of me ~every day~ until he just took off? Do you wanna see the scars? Is that the past you wanted to know about, because we're ~friends~?"  
  
Merton's voice cracked on the last word, and he fell silent. Both Tommy and Lori looked shellshocked, too stunned to say anything. That was fine with Merton because it gave him the opportunity to brush the corners of his eyes before the hot, shameful tears fell. He also needed a kleenex so that he wouldn't have to embarrass himself further with a pathetic sniffle, and he really, really needed to be alone.  
  
"Go," he pleaded in a watery voice. "Please, just go."  
  
Lori bit her lip, uncertain. For guidance, she glanced back to Tommy, who hadn't moved during the brief but revealing confrontation. Now he slowly shook his head and began to walk around the desk towards Merton. That was all Lori needed. She was at Merton's side in a heartbeat, and enfolded him in a tight hug. She tried to ignore how Merton flinched and tensed. Tommy joined them. Merton, at the center of the group hug, gave a strangled laugh that almost turned into a sob. So much for avoiding melodrama.  
  
  
  
  
TBC!  
  
Review? Please? 


	6. Obsession

All warnings and disclaimers still apply.  
  
  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
  
Merton woke from a deep, exhausted sleep with mixed feelings. He was very content in his surroundings, which were warm and soft, and he didn't want to wake up. Instead he snuggled deeper in his nest of blankets. But a tiny, wriggling worm of worry had embedded itself in his brain, and sleep would not return. Merton frowned against the warm pillow, not giving an inch. He was tired still, he wanted to sleep. But the more he fought it, the more the worry grew until he was fully aware and had to face what he was worried about.  
  
He sighed and sat up, scrubbing at his face with his palms. What a night. First he'd made the utterly stupid mistake of telling his father where to stick it, and then, as if he hadn't been on enough of an emotional rollercoaster, he'd spent the rest of the night being comforted by Tommy and Lori. Heat came to his face as he recalled how he'd behaved. After the hug, Tommy and Lori had coaxed the whole sorry story from him, and he hadn't made it two sentences before he'd started crying in earnest. But he didn't feel ~too~ bad because by that time Lori'd begun doing the same. With both of them bawling, it didn't take long for Tommy to turn on the waterworks, too.  
  
They'd talked for hours, too, about everything. And to Merton's surprise, they didn't seem to think he was weak or pathetic. If anything, their respect for him seemed to increase. He'd taken for granted that he survived. After seeing what cruelty was, he'd made ever effort to avoid becoming it himself. This appeared to be what impressed his friends the most, that he didn't repeat the pattern of physical and emotional abuse.  
  
How did he get so lucky with his friends?  
  
With a stretch and a yawn he kicked his feet over the side of his bed, feeling better than he had in days. He quickly hopped in the shower, washing the sleep from his eyes. He even hummed under his breath as he got dressed. He grabbed his coffin backpack and his car keys, ready to face the day. Even his worries about his father were far away. After all, the man probably wouldn't try anything when Merton was likely to be missed, and if he didn't show up for school Tommy and Lori at least would notice. It was with a lighter heart that Merton stepped out of his door -  
  
- and came face to barrel with a 9mm.  
  
Mr. Dingle grinned widely at the shock frozen on Merton's face. "Good morning, son. You ready to finish what we started last night?" Merton couldn't find his voice. "What's the matter? Not brave enough to talk back when you don't have your friends with you? It doesn't matter, anyway. Here's what you're going to do. We're going to get in your sick little car like there's nothing wrong, and then we're going for a little ride. You got me?"  
  
Merton couldn't speak. His throat constricted, his stomach churned, and even his knees were weak with fear. Unfortunately, Mr. Dingle actually seemed to want and answer. When he did not receive one immediately, a look a pure irrational rage twisted his face. He lashed out, clipping Merton on the side of his head with the handle of the gun. The goth reeled, falling back against the door. He felt his backpack splinter and all his supplies fell to the ground. Then Mr. Dingle grabbed his arm and shoved him up the first few stairs, keeping the gun pointed steadily at his son's back.  
  
"Get moving. And act casual," he commanded, and he stuck his hand and gun in the deep pocket of his jacket. Merton was certain that it was still aimed at him, so he had no choice but to obey. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely get the key in the ignition. As his father instructed him where to go, he sneakily rolled his window down, hoping it would be enough to leave a scent trail for Tommy to follow. His only hope was for his friends to find him before it was too late.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Tommy was jittery. It was the first day of his and Lori's family values project. It meant standing up at the front of Lori's home ec. class and speaking about what they intended to prove about the nuclear family. Usually public speaking didn't bother him very much because he had such a great rapport with his classmates. Or maybe he just took after his politician father. Whatever.   
  
The only thing that made him uncomfortable about this situation was that amongst all the goings-on of the weekend, he and Lori had forgotten to work on their project. They had absolutely nothing, and to make things even more distracting, Merton wasn't in school. Neither Tommy nor Lori had seen him all morning, and given Merton's near-perfect attendance, they both suspected something was very out of the ordinary.  
  
"What are we gonna do?" Tommy asked as they walked down the hall to the lunch room at noon.  
  
"I don't know, but I think we should talk to Becky," Lori said.  
  
"Huh?" Tommy asked intelligently, wondering why Becky would know anything about home ec.  
  
"Doesn't Merton always give her a ride to school? Well, if he's not here, then maybe Becky would know where he is," Lori explained, stepping to the side of the doorway so as not to block the way for the other students as she scanned the lunchroom. Tommy, embarrassed and a little ashamed of himself for thinking about an assignment instead of Merton, followed her lead, and being taller than her, he spotted Becky first.  
  
"Over there," he said, gesturing to the other side of the cafeteria. They wasted no time in weaving their way between tables until they reached their destination. He stopped next to Becky and grinned his best charming grin as the girl turned towards him with surprise all over her face. "Hi, Becky."  
  
"H-hi Tommy," she replied, smiling back flirtatiously. Though he could only see Lori out of the corner of his eye, Tommy knew that she was rolling her eyes. Needless to say, the appearance of Tommy Dawkins sent the table of freshmen girls into fits of whispering and giggles. The tall boy couldn't help but preen a bit before being brought back down to earth when Lori elbowed him hard in his side.  
  
"Could we talk to you for a second? It's about your br-" he began, but he wasn't allowed to finish his sentence. As soon a he'd started it, Becky's eyes widened with panic and she leapt to her feet.  
  
"Sure, Tommy," she said too quickly, cutting him off. "Let's go talk."  
  
This set the whispers off again, but it hardly mattered as they walked a few feet away. Becky looked at Tommy and Lori sullenly and flipped her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated care. Before either senior could speak, Becky began.  
  
"Look, if you're looking for Merton, I have no idea where the freaker is. I saw him drive off this morning," she said carelessly.  
  
"Drive off?" Tommy asked.  
  
"Yeah. I was just getting out the front door and he peeled out of the driveway," Becky told them. "Jerk. I had to walk in ~these~." She gestured to her chunky, five-inch-heeled shoes.  
  
"Was there anyone with him?" Lori asked unsympathetically, a note of urgency in her voice. Tommy felt it, too. Merton's fear and suspicion of Mr. Dingle had infected them both. Had the man found a way of coercing Merton?  
  
"Actually, I think there was someone in the passenger's seat," the younger girl said. "I didn't get a good look. Why?"  
  
"No reason," Lori lied as their fears were confirmed. "Which way did he go?"  
  
"The opposite direction from school. It's funny. I never thought he was the type to ditch," Becky smirked. "Is this all? I was kinda in the middle of a conversation."  
  
Tommy nodded. "Thanks, Becky."  
  
"Any time, Tommy," she said with an insinuating smile. She flounced by Lori, who frowned after her. When she was out of earshot, the blonde sniffed.  
  
"That girl is a snot," she pronounced with authority, then turned to Tommy. "We have got to find Merton. If we don't - "  
  
She broke off. It was too hard to say, not to mention unnecessary. Tommy's imagination was working overtime already. He swallowed the fear and led the way out of the school.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
The blow fell heavily on Merton's bruised and bloodied face, and he was knocked from his kneeling position back to the twig and leaf-covered ground. A booted foot connected with his ribs, and he felt something snap with a blaze of white pain. He wheezed, even breathing an agony, and didn't try to get up again. It was pointless, hopeless. He'd just get pistol-whipped for his troubles.  
  
"Pathetic little shit," spat his father, toeing him none too gently into turning over so he was facing up. "You haven't changed. I thought you might have, after the way you stood up to me last night. I thought you might have grown a spine."  
  
Merton didn't respond, couldn't. He blinked his swollen eyes and concentrated on breathing just right, so he'd get enough air without setting off the pain in his chest. Already he was preparing for the end. If he didn't get beaten to death, the 9mm would take care of everything. So none of it really mattered. All his pain would be over soon, one way or the other.   
  
Tommy and Lori, if they'd noticed by now that he was missing, probably had no luck finding him. After driving in the car for almost an hour down a dirt road in the middle of the woods, his father had marched him through the trees until he was certain he'd never be able to find his way back to Pleasantville even if he ~did~ by some miracle survive this. It was his own stupid fault for letting his guard down. If he'd been thinking this morning, he'd have gone upstairs and gotten Becky to come out to the car with him. He was fairly certain that his father liked Becky better than Merton, so it was a safe bet that he wouldn't attack when she was around. That, and she would be a witness.  
  
"Get up, boy," commanded Mr. Dingle, looming above Merton menacingly, face deadly serious. The goth was tempted to disobey. At least if he was shot now, he wouldn't have to go through the pain his father had in store for him. However, he found just how cowardly he was as his muscles obeyed his father without consulting his brain.  
  
"You don't know what it's been like, these past years. They all called me crazy, you know. Said I was a crazy drunk, and they put me in an institution," Mr. Dingle said, pacing slowly, menacingly in front of the boy as he talked. He stopped and leaned in close. Merton tried to flinch away, but it hurt too much. "And it's all your fault. ~You're~ the one who did that to me."  
  
"W-what?" Merton manage to gasp, unable to understand this leap of logic.  
  
Mr. Dingle snarled and grabbed Merton's arm with his free hand, fingers digging so hard into the flesh that Merton knew there would be bruises there, too. The man shook him violently.  
  
"Because it was ~your~ imaginary friend that nearly killed me! Because it was ~you~ who was always such a fuck-up! You were an accident, you little shit! Neither your mother nor I wanted to have a kid!" he screamed in Merton's face. He let go of his son's arm, and Merton's slight frame went sailing five feet to crash against a tree. The teen crumpled at the base of the trunk as his father went on.   
  
"But ~you~ were born, and then you were so annoying, always wanting attention, always talking to your imaginary friend. You were a miserable excuse for a child by anyone's standards," Mr. Dingle paused to wipe flecks of spittle from his lips. After a moment of sneering down at Merton, though, he grinned nastily. "Don't you want to know how I got out?"  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
Tommy and Lori stared at the remains of Merton's beloved coffin-shaped backpack, their fears confirmed. Lori met Tommy's eyes in time to see them flash yellow just before he transformed. She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose - sure, she loved him to pieces, but Tommy's facial features in mid-morph were just a little creepy-looking.  
  
"Well? Can you smell anything?" she asked as Tommy began sniffing the air.  
  
"Yeah," he panted. "I got a good whiff of both their scents."  
  
"Why both?" Lori asked. "We only need to find Merton."  
  
"Because," Tommy growled dangerously, the suppressed rage in his tone not matched by any she'd heard before. "If Merton is..."  
  
He trailed off, and his girlfriend was glad he did. Not only did she not want to face the possibility that something might happen to Merton, she didn't even want to think of what Tommy might do if he ever found Mr. Dingle afterward. She shivered, but not from the cool air.  
  
Tommy brooded for a moment, memorizing the scents so he wouldn't confuse them at an inopportune moment. He would track Merton down first, and decide what to do from there. Hopefully, Merton was relatively unharmed, but there was always the possibility... Tommy considered himself a good werewolf, but no one had ever killed a member of his pack before. Judging from the urges he'd had to control when a monster even just threatened Lori or Merton, he had a feeling that if either of them actually ~died~ that he wouldn't be responsible for his actions.  
  
He took a breath in the hopes of calming down - already the wolf was begging for free reign to track down and tear the interloper to pieces - but it was in vain. The scent of Merton's father just served to further enrage him. He shook his head rapidly to get a grip on himself, then turned his back to Lori.  
  
"Hop on," he said, crouching down a bit.  
  
"What, a piggy-back ride?" Lori asked, surprised and bemused.  
  
"You're too slow. We have to get going," he explained shortly.  
  
Lori chuckled a little nervously and hopped up onto Tommy's back. He wrapped his arms under her legs as she grabbed his shoulders firmly. With only a small grunt for warning, Tommy set off.  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
"G-got out?" Merton asked, too lost in a haze of pain to really focus on what his father was saying but too frightened not to play along. To be honest, though, he didn't really think that it mattered much. Mr. Dingle went on as if he hadn't heard.  
  
"After I left Pleasantville, I went on a huge binge. I don't remember a lot about how it happened, but I got picked up and sent to detox in a psych ward, and from there it was straight to the funny farm. Seems they thought I was having delusions that my son's imaginary friend fried my brain," Mr. Dingle explained with a strange little giggle Merton had never heard before. "You remember that, don't you?"  
  
"Y-yes," Merton said.  
  
"I thought you would," the man went on. "I was there for so long, it was starting to ~drive~ me crazy. All the medication I didn't need but had to take. All the nuts in there. It got so I thought I was as mad as they all said I was. I was a sick fuck, I beat my child, I saw little green boys who weren't there. I'd almost given up hope. Until, that is, I saw ~him~ again."  
  
"Him?" Merton asked, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"Yeah, you know who. Your old pal Vince. He came to me a couple months ago, all grown up. He told me what you did to him. He told me he wanted revenge," he said, and his unwavering disturbing grin growing wider. "And you know what? I wanted revenge, too. So Vince helped me out. He took care of the guards while I escaped."  
  
Merton almost sighed, but his ribs screamed in protest. Vince had sided with his father against him. Even after what Merton had unwittingly done to him, Merton had never thought that Vince would consider helping Mr. Dingle for a second. It was a betrayal of what little faith Merton still had in the Vince he knew so long ago. Now it was official. Everyone he'd ever trusted had turned against him.  
  
"Where is he?" he bit out.  
  
"Oh, now that was a pity," his father said, taking two steps forward and going down on one knee in front of Merton. He reached into his jacket's inner pocket as he continued. "You see, as soon as I was a safe distance from the nut house, I got my gun and got my revenge."  
  
He grabbed Merton's hand and put something twisted and cold into it. Merton peered into his palm. It was a small lump of metal.   
  
"What?" the goth asked.  
  
"This is the bullet that killed Vince. After he got shot, he didn't bleed or die messy. Just puffed out of existence. This was all that was left," Mr. Dingle explained, smug pleasure in his voice. "Thought you'd like a souvenir to remember him by."  
  
Merton's hand started shaking so badly that the remnants of the bullet fell from his palm. "But- you couldn't have - he can't be! He was invincible!"  
  
Mr. Dingle just shrugged. "Coulda fooled me."  
  
  
  
  
  
TBC!!!  
  
  
  
So sorry about the time between updates! ^^;; I was adjusting to my - ahem! - "wild" college lifestyle. Classes suck. Dorms suck. Cafeteria food sucks. Ah well, at least I have the comradeship of fellow slash fangirls and people with the same twisted and cynical sense of humor I have.  
  
Review, please? I promise the next chapter won't end on a cliff hanger thingie like this. 


	7. Closure

All disclaimers and warnings still apply.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The scent trail was almost overpowering in the still forest. Tommy'd had difficulty tracking Merton at first, the trail along the highway very faint. But he still found the hearse hidden on a backroad in the middle of the woods, and after that it had been easy sailing. Merton's scent was altered slightly by extreme fear, and Mr. Dingle's scent was one Tommy couldn't concentrate on for long or he'd start growling, and that unnerved Lori, who still clung to his back.  
  
Strangely enough, all this running wasn't wearing him down in the least. The wolf pounded through him, and it was angry, growing more so every second he followed this trail. The beast wanted blood, and Tommy was terrified of what would happen if he lost control. Not even when he was first dealing with his lycanthropy had the urge to rend living flesh been this strong. Bloodlust was driving him insane, goaded on by the hints of actual blood he'd scented - Merton's blood. Tommy ran his tongue over his fangs. If Merton was dead, he promised himself, he'd rip the older man's throat out.  
  
The trail was getting fresher. Fear clung to everything on the path, and Tommy increased his pace. Soon. They'd find Merton soon -   
  
" - Piss-poor excuse for a son. I've waited years for this," the hateful voice rang out clear through the trees. Then the sounds of pain and struggle. Tommy couldn't help it; he growled low in his throat, closing in on the prey, running into the clearing that was the source of the disturbance - only to see Mr. Dingle pointing the gun at Merton, prone and badly beaten on the ground not too far away.  
  
Time seemed to slow. Tommy could sense more than see Mr. Dingle's finger tightening on the trigger, and he knew he'd never be able to make it all the way across the clearing before the gun went off, even with his incredible speed. But Merton was much closer. The instinct to protect his pack took over. Tommy dropped Lori like a sack of potatoes and flung himself between them.  
  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
  
Mr. Dingle laughed as tears fought their way out of Merton's eyes. The teen was too in shock to care, too resigned to the fact that he was not going to survive this no matter what to care that crying always made his father angrier. Vince... Vince, his childhood friend. Vince, his compatriot. Vince, the only shield he'd ever had against the man who loomed over him was ~gone~. Killed by a mad-man's bullet. Killed by the man he'd saved Merton from. Even though what he had just learned had tarnished the memories of Vince, Merton still shed tears.  
  
"You pathetic sack of shit," Mr. Dingle said, the laughter gone as if flipped off by a switch. He grabbed Merton by the arm and yanked him to a standing position, pinning him against the tree heavily. Merton couldn't keep from crying out in pain, and for this he received another blow to the face. "Mother-fucking piss-poor excuse for a son. I've waited years for this."  
  
Merton's father cocked the hammer and pressed the muzzle to Merton's temple with bruising force. Merton squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could and prepared himself -   
  
- And kneed his dad in the gut while shoving the gun away with one arm. He dodged to the side quickly, doing his utter best to ignore the pain in almost every part of his body. He tried to scramble away, crawling crab-style, leaves flying up into his mouth as he made his way across the ground. He watched as his father regained his breath and balance enough to aim the gun and aim the gun. He closed his eyes and fell to the ground.  
  
There was an incredibly loud explosion - and nothing. His face felt wet, and when he ventured a hand up to touch his face, it came away covered in blood. But... he wasn't hurt. He opened his eyes.  
  
Tommy stood frozen between Mr. Dingle and Merton. There was a gaping hole where the right side of his chest should have been. He gave one labored breath, turning to look down at Merton, a confused look on his face. He touched the smaller entry hole uncomprehendingly, then fell to his knees. He coughed, red flying from his lips.  
  
"Tommy!" The shout tore its way from Merton's throat, and his body was in motion before he could think. He darted over to his friend, and steadied him with both arms as the larger boy began to fall backwards. "Tommy! Tommy, hang on! Don't - "  
  
"I'm... okay... Mer-Merton," gasped Tommy. Then he coughed weakly again, his eyes wide and inhuman yellow for a moment before all light faded from them and they became glassy. The fur on his face receded and his body relaxed into heaviness. Dead weight, Merton thought vaguely as he reached a shaking hand up to slide Tommy's eyes shut.  
  
"Oh... my.... God..." Merton heard someone say. It wasn't him.  
  
He dimly was aware of standing. Not only standing, but running and attacking. Then he was on the ground again, this time rolling and struggling. He punched, kicked, bit, scratched, shrieked.  
  
"I'LL KILL YOU!! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!"  
  
Merton put all his hate, pain, loss, and fear into the onslaught, and for a while he was winning. Then his father recovered from the shock that his weakling son was actually fighting back, and the older man's experience and superior strength returned. Soon the tide was turning for the worse again, and Merton was the one pinned to the ground, taking punch after punch. As suddenly as the rage came upon him, it was gone. Nothing mattered anymore. His two best friends were dead, killed by the same man. The same monster. He stopped struggling, determined to be the next in line.  
  
Then there was a blood-curdling scream and the weight of his father was gone, the punching gone. Lori. Lori was standing over him, but not looking at him. Rather, her fierce eyes were focused on the man trying to crawl towards the gun that lay forgotten on the leaves. Merton found it odd that she did not try to go for the gun herself. Didn't she know that if Mr. Dingle got the gun back, he'd shoot them all as soon as the cold metal of the handle touched his palm? It was one thing if he himself died at this point. But... Lori... Not Lori. No one else that was close to him would die by this man's hand. His head swam as he pulled himself up, certain he had a concussion, if not a skull fracture. Hands were suddenly on his shoulders, supporting but restraining.  
  
"You shouldn't try to stand," Lori murmured to him, not looking at him, eyes still fixed on Mr. Dingle, who had reached the gun.  
  
"Lori, run," Merton said, his voice hoarse.  
  
"Don't worry," she whispered. "I have a plan."  
  
"This is no time for heroics! He'll kill you!"  
  
"That's right, bitch," Mr. Dingle said, standing with the 9mm once again secure in his grip. His unnerving, distorted grin was even more menacing with his face bloodied and bruised. "You're both gonna join the other one over there - what the hell?"  
  
He'd gestured towards where Tommy had fallen, but Merton's eyes widened when he saw that Tommy was no longer there. Then his father let out a surprised, pained noise, and Merton whipped his head back around - which nearly caused him to black out. When he regained his sight, Tommy was standing in bloody, wild, and terrible glory over Mr. Dingle's unconscious form. His face was contorted with fury and hate, but his self-restraint showed in the way he clenched his fists at his sides, his whole body taut with the effort not to rend and tear the man to shreds.  
  
"Next time, use silver bullets," he growled, kicked the insensible man, and spat on him.  
  
Silver...bullets? Of course. Merton began to chuckle, high and hysterical. You can't kill a werewolf with normal bullets; they heal too quickly. Only silver can kill a werewolf. He must have taken too many blows to the head to not have remembered. In fact, he knew he'd been hit on the head too many times because his vision was beginning to tunnel and fade, and the voices of his friends were also growing more distant. He was so tired. He was barely aware of Tommy and Lori bending over him before blackness overtook him completely.  
  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
  
Merton was hospitalized for two days, and spent most of his time talking either to family, the police, or counselors. Occasionally a doctor or nurse would get uppity and kick everyone out, but Merton didn't really mind the constant questioning. In fact, he wanted to get everything sorted out as soon as possible. Tommy, Lori, and he had all gotten their stories straight the minute Merton woke up during the hearse ride back into town.  
  
They went straight to the police station, not counting the quick stop at Tommy's house for the jock to change clothes so as not to arouse suspicion. They told the truth about the notes and the confrontation in the Lair, and the only part they left out of the fight was the fact that Tommy got shot. They made it sound like Mr. Dingle just fired wild or into the air. They did include Tommy and Lori's plan that involved Lori distracting Mr. Dingle while Tommy came at him from behind. Merton had wondered where Lori had been prior to her kicking his father off of him. Now he knew that she'd seen the hole in Tommy's side knit together in seconds and then they'd both rushed into their plan.  
  
Merton and Mr. Dingle both were taken to the hospital with escorts, and since then Merton had to give his statement. Of course, his family was notified and they dropped everything to come to his bedside. The counselors were annoying for the most part, but Merton got them to leave him alone pretty quickly by just doing what they said. Mr. Dingle, however, had proved the fact that he was not stable by raving to everyone who would listen that he had been foiled by a werewolf.   
  
On the second day, Merton was changing - rather gingerly, because nearly every part of his body was in pain - into his favorite black pants and red-and-black shirt. His ribs were luckily only deeply bruised, not broken as he'd feared, and the only reason they'd kept him in so long was because the doctors were worried about his concussion. He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in what seemed forever, and he still had to woken once ever hour tonight.  
  
He tossed the hospital gown on the floor on the far side of the bed for some orderly to find, and as he shoved his feet into his sneakers, there was a knock at the door.  
  
"Come in," he called, not looking up as whoever it was entered.  
  
"Yo, what's up?" asked a cheerful, familiar voice. Merton finished tying his shoe and moved on to the next.  
  
"Not a whole lot. Finally get to go home," he replied.  
  
"Who's gonna wake you up all night long?" another voice asked, just as cheerfully.  
  
"Dunno. My mom or dad, probably."  
  
"Well, what about us? We could have a horror movie marathon all night," Tommy said, plopping himself on the bed.  
  
"Yeah, and we'll even let you pick the movies," Lori added, sitting on Merton's other side.  
  
"How generous of you," he said wryly.  
  
"We know," Lori smirked.  
  
Merton sighed, and the silence that fell was companionable. Before the goth could get his mind organized enough to say what he'd been really thinking about for the past couple days, Tommy spoke up.  
  
"How're your parents taking it?" he asked quietly.  
  
"All right, I guess. We're going in for family counseling starting two weeks from Saturday," Merton replied.  
  
"My parents are going on and on about how sorry they are they never noticed how 'troubled' you were, and they're talking about inviting you and your family over to dinner one night," Tommy said, then snorted. "But then, we'd have to find a way to pry Dean away from the television."  
  
"My parents are complaining more about how stupid we were just charging in and saving you when we should have called the police and let them deal with it," Lori said and rolled her eyes. "They wouldn't have known where to start."  
  
"Well, you guys were pretty stupid," Merton said, causing both of his friends to groan. "No, really. You could have ~died.~ Hell, I thought you ~were~ dead, Tommy. Granted, I wasn't thinking properly, but I was so... so scared. If I lost either of you guys..."  
  
He trailed off, his throat tightening at the very idea. He was still getting over the shock of Tommy taking a bullet for him. Sure, the jock had gotten him out of one supernatural fix after another, but none of them had ended with so much blood spilled. This seemed a more real danger than the various monsters and demons, maybe because they weren't fighting on even ground in this arena. When faced with monsters, Tommy was fighting fairly and naturally. But guns were cold and emotionless killing devices that couldn't be dealt with in the same reckless manner.  
  
"A moot point," Lori pointed out firmly. "We're all still here, and we did what had to be done."  
  
"Yeah, I know. And I want to thank you both. I... I don't know what I'd do without you guys, and not just because you're saving my bacon all the time," he said, a flush heating his cheeks. "I mean, I know I'm weird and annoying sometimes, and you guys are always there to put up with me or to tell me when I'm being stupid. You guys are the only friends I've ever had and... and if it means anything, I consider you my family. More than my mom and dad, more than Becky, you guys are my family.  
  
"I don't know if you guys will understand how I can say that, because you've always had family to lean on, but mine... Mine gave me up a while ago. They're trying now, but it's really too little, too late. At least, it is in my opinion. But you've both been here for me... and even if you both think I'm even weirder now, I just had to let you know," he finished, staring at his hands in his lap, listening to the heavy pause, and flushing from head to toe. There, he'd said it. If they weren't freaked out enough to leave, he'd consider it a victory -  
  
Suddenly Merton was enfolded in another double-hug as he had been only a few nights before, though this one was much more gentle, his wounds taken into consideration. Surprise filled him along with a warm feeling of acceptance and peace, and he returned the hug as best he could. Lori even kissed his bruised cheek gently.  
  
"We're closer than family," Tommy said quietly. "We're ~pack.~"  
  
The moment held, but eventually even the light squeeze made Merton's ribs ache, so he had to break the hug. While he got his get-well cards and other things together, Lori stood as well.  
  
"There's only one thing that still needs to be settled then," she said. Both boys looked at her quizzically. "What happened to Vince? I mean, he ~was~ invincible, right? So how'd your dad kill him?"  
  
Merton pondered this for a moment. Finally, he said, "Well, I was the one who created him. I stopped believing in him, so maybe he had to go by whatever his current friend believed about him. I guess my dad didn't believe he was invincible, and so was able to kill him."  
  
"Whatever. At least now we know that they're both gone for good. The case against your father is airtight. No jury in the world will find him innocent, and he'll be shipped off to the looney bin where he belongs," Tommy snarled the last with understandable contempt.  
  
"Yeah, but let's not think about that now. We've got some movies to pick out at Blockbuster," Lori said soothingly.   
  
Merton grinned deviously. "I get to choose ~all~ the movies, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
As the goth began to plot with that same devious grin on his face, both Lori and Tommy winced inwardly and wondered whether that promise had been made too hastily. Still, a promise was a promise, and they led Merton from the room to where his biological family waited.  
  
  
  
  
X X X X X  
  
  
  
  
Mr. Dingle sat curled in on himself, rocking back and forth angrily. He'd been in this solitary box for too long. He wanted out. He had to finish what he'd started. He had to get revenge, now not only on his son, but on the werewolf and his bitch. He wanted to see their blood gushing out of wounds made by blessed silver bullets. All he had to do was get out of here. But how?  
  
Timely as ever, there came a knock at the door. Mr. Dingle snapped his head around to look as a familiar figure slid through the door. Literally ~through~, without the thick metal door moving out of the way.  
  
"No," gasped Mr. Dingle. "You're dead. I killed you."  
  
A smirk. "You can't kill Vince. Vince is invincible. And you have made Vince very angry."  
  
"Stay back," Mr. Dingle cried as the green-haired man approached menacingly.  
  
The orderlies that came to check on him hours later found him curled in the fetal position in the corner, drooling, completely catatonic.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
END  
  
  
  
  
Jesus Christ, this took a long time to finish. Fuck if I know why. Maybe it was the couple hundred term papers. Ah well. It's done, and I'm finally free to move on to bigger and better things. Yay for me.  
  
Review, please. 


End file.
